


True Affection

by vulpixel



Category: Claymore (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, jean lives bitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28904223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpixel/pseuds/vulpixel
Summary: clare learns some new things about deneve and helen and then something about herself
Relationships: Clare/Jean (Claymore), Deneve/Helen (Claymore)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	True Affection

Swords clash together. Clare grips tight to her claymore, locking eyes with the warrior before her. Miria stares her down, a slight smile on her face. She channels her yoma energy, making her body move fast. Clare watches closely as she moves in, using her senses to predict the blow. A flash, and Clare deflects the strike from behind.

"Nice attempt, but you're still a little slow," Miria comments. She slashes at her again, barely grazing Clare’s armor. She purposefully missed, and Clare knows it.

"Is this not why we train?" She responds, dodging to the side. She jabs at the woman, holding back just enough not to kill her.

Beside her, Deneve and Helen spar. And quite loudly at that, but Clare knows to drown out Helen's voice. Next to them Jean and Tabitha have at it. Jean takes charge while Tabitha tries to evade. They wordlessly dodge back and forth with fruitless jabs. And even further on, Yuma and Cynthia train together. Although, the two seem to battle in slow motion compared to the rest.

Clare can't help but sneak glances at the others as they work. She finds their fighting styles fascinating and something she can learn from. The way Jean takes charge and focuses her blows to make every swing count, Cynthia's careful nature that keeps her untouched by Yuma's blade. And Yuma just throws her sword. Clare thinks that’s cool. Deneve is more practical and calculating. All together, they form a unique team, and Clare can't help but feel at home.

"You missed me!" Helen laughs boisterously.

"Did I?" Deneve replies, a smug grin on her face only reserved for the other. She kicks her partner in the chest, and Helen crashes to the ground.

"Hey! That's cheating!"

"Is it? Ah-!"

Helen grabs Deneve with her legs and pulls her down with her. The woman crashes down on top of her. Her eyes burn with rage as she stares down the other woman.

Helen breaks out into a fit of laughter. Deneve continues to glare at her. She brings her fist up, and for a brief moment, fear flashes in Helen's eyes. Slowly, she jokingly punches her friend in the face. Her hand squishes into Helen's cheek, and the other woman grows irate over it.

"Stop it!" Helen whines like a toddler, "Miria, Denny's touching me!"

At that, Deneve snorts. She continues to run her hand on Helen's face. "No, I'm not!"

"Do you not see yourself? You're touching me."

"I don't see how in the world I am touching you."

"Like this." Helen takes her hand and pinches Deneve's cheeks. She molds the woman's face like bread dough. The two women sit in a pile rubbing their hands over each other's faces instead of training.

Miria watches the two like a disappointed mother. She sticks her sword in the ground by Helen's head and crosses her arms, shaking her head in disappointment at the two. Clare catches the slightest smile on her face.

"You two are something else," Miria says, "I think that's enough training for one day. Deneve and Helen, go gather some wood for the fire."

"We're done? Finally! I'm starved." Immediately, Helen is up and running. She pulls Deneve by the arm until she gets up to follow.

Once they are out of sight, Miria laughs, "I don't know what to do with those two."

"They act more like children than warriors sometimes," Clare comments, "But only around each other. How odd."

"That's the effect they have on each other. C'mon. Let's go fetch something to eat."

By the time they return, the fire has already been started. Yuma carefully adds more kindling while Deneve and Helen watch. Cynthia prepares the utensils for cooking. Helen, as usual, bickers about something until Deneve hands her an apple. Clare throws her offering down: a single hare. It's enough for everyone to eat their fill. Although, Helen is left wanting more. Before she can complain, Deneve pulls her into her lap to keep her quiet. Her chin comes to rest atop her head.

The fire blazes on, and the women huddle around. They have no need for it, but they also have nothing better to do. It is comforting nonetheless. Miria talks about tomorrow's itinerary while the rest listen intently. They have nothing better to discuss, and they surely wouldn't know any other subjects if they were asked.

Clare stares at Helen and Deneve, finding herself perplexed at the sight. The way the two women entangle themselves in each other makes Clare curious. She has never seen such a sight before, and she wonders its purpose. Her keen eyes catch a glance of Helen's hand slipping into Deneve’s. Deneve rubs her thumb in a small circle over the other's hand. It's such a peculiar sight; Clare does not know what to make of it. A flicker of a feeling long forgotten bubbles in her chest.

Miria continues to talk, although her planning seems to be directed more at herself than anyone else. Still, Tabitha listens with the greatest intent. She leans her head in her hands and inches closer. Clare can barely hear the words she is saying. Miria's rambles become a faint buzz in her mind. Her eyes stay transfixed on Deneve and Helen.

Clare lies awake staring at the starry sky. The rest of the warriors sleep around the fire. Miria props herself up against a tree arms crossed. Tabitha snores softly next to her at a safe distance so there is no chance of her accidentally moving in her sleep and brushing against her comrade. Yuma does not seem to care how she sleeps. Her body lies limp on the ground. Her arms contort in ways Clare never thought possible without injuring oneself or being Helen. Next to her is Cynthia. She curls up into a fetal position. They are incredibly close yet miles apart at the same time. Yuma rolls over so she is face down in the dirt. Her hand smacks Cynthia in the face, but the woman does not stir.

Then, there's Deneve and Helen. Clare still cannot wrap her head around the two. They lie side by side with Helen twisting herself on top of the other woman. Clare stares with utter confusion. As much as she tries, she cannot wrap her head around the concept of holding another person in this context. Perhaps this is a method for suppressing yoki. It's harder to maintain their body temperature in the cold without it. The presence of another body would definitely help. This, Clare thinks, is a logical conclusion. It is enough to satisfy her so she can settle into a slumber.

Until she sees this. Whatever this is. Helen lazily shifts herself over Deneve so their faces are practically touching. Deneve's eyes flutter open. As soon as they do, Helen moves down to greet her. Their lips lock in a way Clare has only seen once before. Her eyes go wide, and she covers her mouth in shock. Is this allowed? No matter how hard she tries, she cannot peel her eyes from the scene.

They way they tangle themselves in each other, sharing their warmth in the most intimate fashion. It's all burned into her mind. Clare cannot stop thinking about it.

She decides to confront Miria on the matter the next morning. The woman is busy practicing her phantom technique until Clare surprises her from behind. Miria crashes into a nearby tree, effortlessly toppling it over. The sound echoes through the woods. A flock of birds fly away alarmed.

"Miria," Clare says as if nothing just happened, "I wish to speak with you."

She holds her hand out to help Miria up from her newly formed crevice in the earth.

Miria takes her hand. "What do you wish to speak to me about?"

"Deneve and Helen."

"What about them?"

"They're... close."

"More like inseparable," Miria muses, "Actually more like insufferable. Well, Helen at least."

"I agree with you on that statement," answers Clare, "I just don't understand why."

“Why what?”

“Why do they do that?”

"They have a special connection like no other. If they wish to act on it, then that's their business. Plus, it keeps Helen quiet."

And Clare is certainly grateful for that.

"I have one more question."

"Which is?" Miria awaits her response.

"What was that thing they were doing with their mouths? What is its purpose?" Clare asks.

"Eating?"

"No. The other thing."

"The other thing?" Miria squints at her. Suddenly the realization hits. "Oh. Clare, you don't know what kissing is?"

"Do you?"

"That's what Deneve and Helen do."

"Why?"

"It's a special sign of affection and admiration."

"Oh." Clare never realized. This opens a world of opportunities for her. This is something she has to do. She steps closer to Miria and leans in. It takes the other woman a moment to realize what is happening.

Miria promptly puts her hand up to stop her in the act. Her hand covers Clare’s mouth. "I appreciate the sentiment, but not like that."

"Oh." Clare can't help but be disappointed. However, she is not one to cross boundaries that shouldn't be crossed.

\----

Clare finds Cynthia meditating in the woods. She sits perfectly still on an old stump with her eyes closed. Her chest rises and falls slowly with each calming breath. She has been there long enough that a layer of snow has started to coat her body. It glistens on her hair. Clare can’t help but enjoy the sight. She stands watching from a distance before quietly approaching. She would hate to disturb her comrade in such a serene state. Her footsteps softly crunch in the snow.

"Hello, Clare," Cynthia says, not opening her eyes, "What brings you here?"

"I just wanted to show my appreciation," Clare answers. Without hesitation, she bends over to kiss her comrade on the lips.

This, of course, breaks Cynthia's concentration. Her eyes shoot open, and her gasp of surprise is muffled by Clare's lips.

Clare parts from her, and Cynthia stares at her slack jawed. Her face burns hot enough to melt the snow.

"What was that?" She asks in dismay. Her entire body has lost all function.

"To show my appreciation," Clare says simply.

"I, uh, I feel very appreciated. Thank you."

She walks away without another word. Cynthia is left contemplating her life choices.

\----

Clare sits next to Yuma by the fire. The coals crackle with warmth, shedding a soft light over them. Yuma leans in, poking the fire with a stick to watch the coals flare up. Clare watches intently, but finds herself staring at her comrade instead. Why does that strand of hair always fall in front of her face? Clare finds it impractical yet endearing.

"What are you looking at?" Yuma asks.

"You," answers Clare, eyes still transfixed on the other woman.

"Why?"

“I don’t have a good answer for that. I Just appreciate you," she says. It's strange to say out loud. Actions speak louder than words, and Clare would prefer to act rather than converse. Sword fighting makes for an easy distraction. However, by the fire, there is no excuse. She leans in subconsciously.

"I appreciate you too," Yuma replies. She seems more confused than anything but grateful nonetheless. "Uh, what are you doing?"

Clare puts a hand on Yuma's cheek like she had seen Deneve do to Helen. She leans in closer and joins their lips together. Yuma flinches as first, but softens as Clare continues to awkwardly kiss her. Neither move their lips. Neither know how to.

When they separate, they both stare at each other silently.

Yuma speaks up first, seeming more confused than anything else. "Uh... thanks?"

Clare nods. "You're welcome."

They leave it at that.

\----

It's hard to get Deneve and Helen alone. The two stick to each other like glue, always finding excuses to work together. 

With Miria’s help, Clare finally manages to corner Helen on a hunting trip. The forest is barren besides the trees and snow. Animals are far and few between. So the two women walk farther and farther to find something. Anything will do.

"I'm starved," Helen complains, "Where's the food? I would kill a man for an apple."

"Please don't commit murder. We will find something," Clare says, staying vigilant. It's hard to listen for creatures when Helen won't stop running her mouth. Usually, it bothers her, but today she welcomes the noise.

“Why are you here, anyway? I’m not trying to be rude. I’m just surprised you wanted to come out here so bad.”

“It’s because I appreciate you.”

“Cute, but that’s not gonna put food in my mouth.”

“Wait. I have one more thing.” Clare takes Helen by the hand to stop her.

“What are you doing?” Helen asks confusedly.

Clare kisses her. Deneve is a genius. This is an extremely effective method of getting Helen to stop talking. Until she stops.

“What the hell was that for?” Helen yells loud enough to disturb the local wildlife even further away.

“I’m showing my appreciation,” Clare answers calmly, “Miria told me-”

“Miria told you to kiss me?”

She shrugs. “Yeah.”

Helen taps her chin as she thinks, a habit picked up from a certain someone. “Well, if you’re gonna kiss me, you have to do it better than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re stiff as a board. Loosen up a little. Let your lips move.”

“Oh. I suppose I need some practice.”

At that, Helen perks up. A devilish grin spreads across her face. “I’ll teach you. Believe it or not, but I have quite a bit of experience in kissing. Consider me an expert if you will.”

Clare lights up. “You would? That’s so nice of you.”

“Anything for a friend.”

\----

“Oh, hey, Clare. I was expecting someone else,” Deneve says. She sits by a river bank, watching the cold water pass by.

Clare sits down next to her. “Helen sent me.”

“She did, did she?”

She nods. “Told me to give this to you.”

“Give what-”

Clare pulls her into a deep kiss. Deneve freezes in shock, not exactly sure what is happening. The kiss lasts longer than the others, and Clare feels much more confident in her technique. Helen spent quite a while practicing with her.

“That,” Clare says as she finally pulls away.

Deneve blinks at her. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Yes.”

“Helen told you to kiss me?”

“Yes.”

“On the lips?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“She wanted me to show you my appreciation. I like you.”

“Clare, you can’t just kiss random people. Especially on the lips. That’s reserved for people you really care about,” Deneve explains.

“I care about you,” Clare says.

“But not like that. Kisses that intimate are for the person who you care about more than anything and that person feels the same for you. It’s a deep understanding and a bond forged so tight not even the strongest blade could break it.”

“And that’s how you feel about Helen?” She asks.

At that, Deneve seems to blush. She turns her head to look at some nearby rocks which suddenly got very interesting. Her voice waivers ever so slightly. “Yes. We’ve been together so long I can’t imagine a life without her.”

Clare can understand that feeling. Although, she has been forced to know a life without her.

“I understand now.”

“So you won’t go around kissing everyone again?”

“Only the person I care the most about.”

“And that person cannot be Helen.”

“Got it.”

\----

Swords clash together in a wondrous display. Clare blocks the blow, but the force of Jean’s strike is enough to send her hurtling backwards. She gets her footing in the snow, quickly getting back into position. The two women stare each other down, calculating their next move carefully. Clare strikes first, choosing to use her quick sword. Jean gets hit but only once. She quickly deflects and counters. Her arm swings around to grab Clare by the nape of her neck, and the hilt of her sword jabs into her stomach.

“Ouch,” Clare says, rubbing the minor wound. She smiles, and both women burst out laughing.

“I don’t know where I got that idea, but I kind of like it,” Jean says.

“Well, I kind of like you,” Clare quips back.

“What?”

The air goes still. The woman looks to Clare with curious eyes.

She continues, “I was talking with Deneve. She taught me some things.”

“About what?”

“About showing the people you care about exactly how you feel.”

“I don’t believe I’m following,” Jean replies.

“I’m saying I appreciate you, and I want you to know it.”

“I know you appreciate me,” her comrade says with a smile, “And I appreciate you too.”

“I know this. You’ve saved my life as I have saved yours. So what keeps you here?” Clare wonders.

“You, of course.”

“But your debt to me has been paid. You have no reason to stay with me.” She frowns.

“Like you said before, I like you. We share a bond like no other. You make me feel complete. I hope you feel the same. I would be nothing without you, and I will never let anything happen to you even if it means sacrificing myself,” Jean answers, speaking from the heart. There is a certain warmth in her words that reminds Clare of a simpler time.

“I would do the same for you.”

“No. Don’t die in my name,” she insists.

“Well, I would prefer if you didn’t either,” Clare argues.

“It seems we have reached an impasse,” Jean comments. She crosses her arms.

“How about, instead of dying for each other, we live for each other?” Clare responds thoughtfully.

“I would like that.”

At that, she smiles. “I like you, Jean.”

“And I like you too, Clare.”

So Clare leans in and kisses her on the lips with the few ounces of emotion she has left. To her surprise, Jean kisses back, although quite inexperienced and unsure of herself. Their lips slide together awkwardly, and Clare can taste the blood. She’s used to it by now. Her body acts for her and wraps her arms around the other woman pulling her closer. Jean drops her sword and completes the embrace. They stand in the snow for what feels like forever, only breaking apart to catch their breath.

“What was that for?” Jean asks, suddenly more exhausted than any amount of training could ever do to her.

“A gift to show my appreciation,” Clare says, equally out of breath.

“Well, let me show you my appreciation.” Jean leans back in.

\----

Deneve and Helen wander through the woods together hand in hand. The moonlight sparkles on the snow, and it’s incredibly quiet despite Helen’s constant chattering.

“All I’m saying is maybe I should be the one with two swords. I’d look much cooler.”

“Helen…”

“I’m right!”

“Helen!” Deneve smacks her in the back of the head. She points to the ground. “Look.”

“What am I looking at?” Helen asks, squinting at the snow.

“Footprints.”

“So?”

“These are fresh.”

“They’re probably ours,” Helen guesses.

“No. Your feet aren’t that big.”

“Are we gonna follow them? That sounds like fun.”

Deneve finds herself curious as well. “Let’s follow them.” And with an added smack to Helen’s head. “ _Quietly_.”

They track the footprints through the snow, walking deeper into the woods. Deneve keeps a sharp eye out while Helen mozies along behind her. Eventually, Deneve stops, holding out an arm to stop Helen.

“Hey! What gives-!”

She puts the woman into a chokehold, covering her mouth to keep her quiet. “They’re close. Keep your voice down.”

“Okay!” Helen drops her voice to a whisper.

Deneve lets go of her. They continue their trek forward, creeping slower as they approach an opening. They duck behind a thick brush and peer out. Deneve covers her mouth to stop an involuntary gasp of shock.

“That’s Jean and Clare,” Helen says with a grin, “And they look really close. Looks like my lessons paid off.”

“She took my advice,” Deneve whispers, still in shock. She stares at the two women in the distance. They’re close enough the sight cannot be mistaken for anything else.

“It was only a matter of time. The two are infatuated with each other. They just didn’t realize it.”

“Or know how to act on those feelings,” she adds.

“We did this.” Helen holds her hand up in a fist. Deneve bumps her own hand into hers.

“We’ll tell Miria this was a team bonding exercise.”

“Agreed. I can’t wait to tease Clare about this.” Helen rubs her hands mischievously.

“I’m sure she’ll love that.” Deneve rolls her eyes. However, she plans to do the same.


End file.
